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Friday, May 28, 2010

Propose a transportation sales tax increase, as Georgia legislators have done, and the visionaries spending other peoples’ money start planning monuments, and costly ones at that. Cobb County commissioners have given the county’s transportation director authority to try to sell a 14-mile light-rail line, projected to cost at least $2 billion, running from the Galleria to Town Center near Kennesaw. Please. Fix the bottlenecks. Make traffic move. Put the money where it produces the greatest benefit to the most people.

It's an old fight, one where many of the combatants have tired and retreated from the field, but the recent news that many major papers in Georgia are pooling resources caused old hurts to resurface at Beyond The Trestle.

And I believe the fight has swayed from "our side" being on the offensive to being on the defensive. And I believe the wounds are self-inflicted.

There is a great deal of hubris in the online community right now. And as many have suspected, it is personally causing me existential angst. We are becoming exactly what the old media said we would - full of ourselves and thumping our chests over a product that is becoming half ass. The bottom line is we had a chance to raise ourselves to them and instead they are descending towards us. And some are gleefully declaring victory.

Lastly, there's what my label-mate Andrew calls, "journalism's dirty secret." The dirty secret is this--perhaps more than any other "profession" journalism's barriers to entry are really artificial. It does take a special person to be a great journalist. Curiosity in the extreme is important. A strong desire to see, and thus think, clearly is important. But neither of these can really be taught in a crude classroom environment. Journalism can't be absorbed through a series of lectures and assigned readings. It must be done. No one can teach you how to go up to strangers and ask rude questions. You just have to do it. Repeatedly.

I highlighted those particular lines because I believe too many will focus on the last few lines.

One thing I tell all aspiring "citizen journalists" is pick up a pen and a pad and go ask questions. Most will be shocked at how easy it is to gain access and how willing people are to answer questions. But it does take a bold person to make that first move. However, it is so much more than just having the gumption to "go up to strangers and ask rude questions"

It is about clarity and honesty.

If you go into a story with a preconceived narrative, you are only fulfilling half your task. If you are unwilling to have your mind changed, you might as well write in a vacuum. Echo chambers only create reflections - hey never produce any new sounds.

And many of us have fallen far short of these simple standards. Even sadder, some of us see it as a triumph. More on that later.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Why does a libertarian become a tax collector? Because even libertarians need a paycheck. How does a libertarian act as a tax collector? With the belief that tax enforcement is not about punishment but correcting mistakes.

In the days when I still referred to myself as a libertarian instead of an independent, for two years I was employed by the Georgia Department of Labor as a Field Representative (officially an Unemployment Insurance Tax Auditor). I did not miss the irony.

One duty was the collection of the Unemployment Insurance tax. Unlike other taxmen with whom you may be familiar, I did not go after individuals - I went after employers. Employers paid the tax quarterly with the amount based on their total payroll. When they became delinquent, a file came to my desk and I devised the best strategy to obtain the money.

To the frustration of my supervisor, I demurred in the use of the most devastating tools in my arsenal. Restraint and diplomacy became my style. Others who had worked the trade for years shook their heads in disbelief.

I have many war stories from these years, some funny, some sad, but the two I always remember were the strip club and the daycare center.

My assigned territory was a mottled blob of strangeness. It stretched from the strip joints and lingerie modeling establishments on Cheshire Bridge through the financial heart of Buckhead all the way to the doctor's offices around Northside Hospital. It was not unusual for a single trip to take me from a liquor store to a stockbroker's office.

Despite what one might think, the adult establishments were hardly a problem. Other than the Gold Club (the Federales got them before I ever got close), for months I never saw a file on the myriad houses of nudity. Then, one appeared. It was a small bill. They only missed one filing but curiousity (and perhaps more puerile interest) drove me to investigate.

There are few things weirder than a strip club at 2:00 in the afternoon on a weekday. The parking lot was full of trucks and sedans. I was entering the world of the landscapers and salesmen - men who forsake the heat of the day for a dark place covered in booze and skin.

A cocktail waitress approached me and asked if I needed anything. A manager I replied. The man in charge appeared quickly and I showed him the bill. He ushered me to his office and relayed a familiar story.

The club had changed accountants and in the confusion the quarterly filing was misssed. I responded, "It happens all the time. I figured it was something like that since you guys are never a problem".

He agreed, opened the big business checkbook and snapped out the full amount.

As he handed me the check, he said, "It'll never happen again."

I replied, "I bet".

Not too far from the strip joint, a young couple opened a daycare center.

They left high paying engineering jobs because they wanted something for themselves and they loved children.

When their file crossed my desk, my supervisor pointed out that it appeared to be classic case of what he called a "mercy killing". He believed some people did not have what it takes to run a business and the best action we could take was to end the misery. He had a point. They were a new business and those always faced the most danger. They were also horribly behind and experience told me the chances of payment were slim.

It was within my power to begin the process which would result in their closure, but I looked at my supervisor and said, "let me go check them out".

The daycare was in an old building next to an even older apartment complex, but it had a fresh coat of bright yellow paint and flower decals on the door. The owners were not much older than me and it was apparent they were over their heads. When they first opened, they knew a lot about kids but not much about running a business. Of course they were aware of the outstanding taxes - they had dutifully filed every quarter, they just didn't pay. The wife told of the dread they both felt about the day the taxman came and now he was here.

We sat and I heard the familiar story of the sacrifices made, the hard lessons learned and the tiny successes. Some tears were shed but their eyes glinted with the belief they had turned the corner and could still realize their dream. But they had no idea how they would deal with this awful piece of paper I was holding in my hand.

I looked around - noted the clean but obviously second hand furnishings, the gaggle of children playing in the next room and the mother arriving to take her daughter home. I then reached into my bag and pulled out a repayment agreement. We discussed how much they could pay without crippling the business, how long it would take and how I would personally come each month to pick up the check. I warned them that my supervisor's approval was required but I believed I could convince him.

The next day, he rolled his eyes and signed the agreement.

Every month, for one year, I stopped by the daycare and picked up a check. On the last day, they met me at the doors with smiles on their faces, check in hand. They demanded I follow them to the office to see the photocopy they made of their final payment.

In two years as a taxman, I only put one business out of operation and filed less than two dozen liens, yet I was in the top three collectors every quarter.

The strip club and the daycare center and countless others taught me there is a reason tax matters are dealt with in a civil rather than a criminal manner. Most people who get into trouble with the taxman do so through carelessness, biting off more than they can chew or just flat out Murphy's Law. It is the rare bird who intentionally tries to get away with being a cheat.

In this season of much thunder about taxes, who pays them, who doesn't and what should be done about it, saying so and so is a bad person and should be punished is an easy story to sell to a cynical public. But as politicians proudly thump their chests and demand a reckoning, we should remember that behind their simplistic descriptions of ne'er-do-wells may be a daycare center or even a strip club or maybe your neighbor or maybe even you.

The bloodlust and call for scalps are seductive, but we all face the taxman eventually and all should hope their own story is seen for what it is and not just a politician's punchline.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

In Decatur, as the Atlanta Journal Constitution continued scaling back local operations, hyperlocals such as DecaturMetro and inDecatur began filling the gaps left behind. Inevitably, the nascent exploration of areas long held by the media giant led to conflict. Discussions of what constituted journalism and appropriate credit spawned spirited discussions across the town square of the new media community.

70 miles away, Dr. Lee Becker, a professor of journalism and proprietor of the online site Oconee County Observations, inadvertently provided a perfect case study of the clash between traditional and new media.

On 5-23, Becker published his story about potential open meetings violations by the Oconee County Commission. Given his background and the thoroughness of the research and sourcing, there can be little doubt the piece should be considered journalism. However, what happened next raised familiar ethical and philosophical questions.

The next day, Athens Banner Herald staff writer Adam Thompson picked up Becker's story and published it on his ABH blog. To his credit, Thompson attributed the origin of the story to Becker's site.

One week later, on June 1, the ABH published a Thompson article on the subject in both its online and print editions. Neither Becker nor his site are mentioned.

The following day, the ABH published an editorial which referred only to the previous day's Thompson article. Athough the editorial board did not specifically claim the paper broke the story, viewed in the vacuum of the print and online editions, the implication cannot be denied.

There is little doubt the genesis of Thompson's story and the editorial follow-up was the piece published by Dr. Becker. As the story passed further from its origin and deeper into the traditional editorial process, the opaqueness of the original source grew.

Amid the assaults on the newspaper industry, one powerful shield which frequently remains unused is transparency. People simply do not understand how newspapers work and this lack of knowledge creates an atmosphere where readers are easy prey for those who peddle in myths of bias and lack of credibility.

When, where and how Becker should have been credited should be debated. However, it is clear the Athens Banner Herald missed an opportunity to use the transparency shield as a tool to give its readers a complete vision of this particular story and glimpse at how all stories emerge. A beneficial by-product would have been appropriate credit for Dr. Becker and possibly a strengthening of the perception of the new media warrior and the traditional media guardian sharing the role of protectors of democracy.

Instead, we are left with the continued friction and our separate pursuits of the solutions we all crave.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Last night, the Atlanta Press Club held its annual award ceremony and two of our own were in the thick of it.

Congratulations to our friend Jason Pye of Jasonpye.com, Peach Pundit and United Liberty for his nomination in the Online/Multimedia category. Jason is one of the true voices of reason in the Georgia blogosphere. He is stubborn in his convictions and pointed in his perspective, but he also understands that continuing the community conversation and allowing the possibility of other viewpoints does not dull his own. Many could learn from his example.

And congratulations to winner in the Online/Multimedia category, Jim Walls of Atlanta Unfiltered. Jim is a testament to the labor, thorougness and deft stroke of a pen required to perform real journalism in our little world. He doesn't get near enough credit, from either his former pen and paper brothers and sisters or from us in the online community, for his consistent production of quality, groundbreaking stories. We should all do better by him.

Last night showed we've come a long way from the days when us byte-slinger upon entering those hallowed halls were met with hostility.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Blogs are Id. I suppose if you continue the analogy, staff reports are the Ego and features/columns/

investigatives are the SuperEgo ~griftdrift in a conversation with a traditional journalist

Developing a philosophy on media in our rapidly changing world is evolutionary, but a revolution may have shown us the way.

All discussions of media in a world of blogs, twitter, facebook and whatever comes next center on the question of "how do we make this work?"

For the moment, let's put aside the issue of how do we make money. No one has the answer and it only muddies the waters.

As we continued to navel gaze on the slow death of newspapers, the eventual death of the 6:00 news and the impact of both on our democracy, events in Iran accelerated the conversation far past our current mutterings and hand wringing.

Although many have framed the Iranian unrest as another "Twitter grows up" moment (they are coming with more regularity aren't they?), the side story of how CNN was apparently caught flat-footed is more interesting from an evolving media perspective.

In the opening days of the protests, CNN, who famously made its bones breaking huge international stories, was noticeably absent. Filling the void were the blogs of Andrew Sullivan, Nico Pitney and Juan Cole. Sullivan's place became a practical stream of conscience of every raw tidbit the maelstrom ejected.

As Twitter became the tool of choice for protesters, information which had been a trickle became a torrent.

Of course, both were rife with exactly the type of content traditional media decries as the downfall of new media - items were impossible to confirm and possibly blatantly false. The great weakness of new media is the possibility of manipulation by an unseen hand. As Iran devolved into a full blown cyberwar, it became nigh impossible to tell the truth from the truth spinners. The old internet adage of believing everything is false until proven otherwise certainly applied.

Sullivan and his cohorts were very clear that information passed along was unverified and should be taken as such.

Finally, into the breach stepped CNN. As the second week of unrest progressed, CNN with all its resources created an "Iran desk" with reporters interpreting images and speeches from a far, calling contacts in Iran and their greatest resource in these situations, Foreign Editor Christiane Amanpour, on air constantly (notably asking one of the most pointed questions at an Ahmedenijad press conference).

What had been a vast field of clutter was brought under the aegis of a massive media machine and began to resemble structure.

Oddly, the progression of media events in those two weeks mirror a common occurrence in the world of software - the merger of a smaller start-up with a traditional, heavily bureaucratized legacy. The only way these types of mergers work is if the agility of the start-up and the institutional knowledge of the legacy are both leveraged without either losing its identity. Failure occurs when either side insists on lockstep adaptation of a "preferred" culture.

Too often in the past, both sides of the media discussion have opted for the second methodology instead of the first. We recognize that we are not the same but we fail to recognize there is strength in that lack of sameness.

So, it is admission time and I am willing to go first.

We cannot do your job. There will be times when we perform parts of your job and I believe it has been shown in the past three years that we can do it with a level of professionalism and standards that should be acknowledged. But we can't cover a beat as well as you do, at this point we can't conduct investigative pieces as well as you do and we sure as hell can't cover an international conflagration with the level of detail and confirmation needed. We need you and it is far past time we admit this fact.

However, in a world where it grows more likely that a person's first contact with a story is a blog or facebook or twitter, you need us too.

We are the tip of the spear but you are the haft - both needed, one for first contact and one for weight and direction, to enable the whole to reach its target.

There comes a time in many relationships when one side must accept the fact the other side simply does not care. It is painful. It is undesirable. But it is a crystalline threshold which must be passed.

I do not speak of the Atlanta Journal Constitution or Creative Loafing. They were casual friends at best. Even as they stumbled online and dwindled on paper, they were always upfront that they never really considered us potential partners.

I speak of the new guys arriving at the dance.

A little over a year ago, I was approached by a quasi-traditional media company who wanted to create a nationwide network of blogs to cover the Presidential campaign. It was an exciting idea but there was barely any time and the idea was nebulous at best.

However, the players seemed sincere about melding "old" and "new" media and there was the small hope a real hybrid would emerge.

Using my knowledge of the online world and small reputation, I began recruiting bloggers across the nation. It was the usual promise of exposure and more traffic - the Tree of Knowledge fruit which lures us so easily. I dutifully submitted my lists of contacts and then waited for the next step which never came.

Soon, I realized the entire project was nothing more than a vanity vehicle and the dreams of something new and better had been cast aside for a shiny new toy.

At least they paid.

A few months ago, I was approached again.

Instead of an old company playing with new toys, this venture was a new company starting fresh. Hope kindled in the fact that not only had this new entity acquired an astounding array of talent but those in charge previously showed an understanding of new media. Their proposal was nothing less than blowing up then replacing the traditional distribution model for journalistic content.

And from the beginning they spoke of integrating new media voices.

Simply sitting in a room with generations of journalism experience and hearing them discuss publishing in terms developed, tweaked and pushed in previous blog conversations, panel discussions and fiery arguments was intoxicating. There was enough hope for a realization of an idea that I rushed home and immediately typed up all my thoughts, philosophies and weird ideas on how new and old could be blended.

It was received by the powers that be with much praise.

Then nothing.

Weeks passed. A follow-up was ignored. When this new organization stepped out into the limelight by breaking one of the fundamental rules of online life, I politely contacted them to explain the error. Still nothing.

There was no break-up letter. Not even the polite corporate-like "we've decided to go in another direction" missive. Just nothing.

The threshold was passed and the painful reality realized.

Those in the traditional media see us like a new leather jacket or new boots they acquire to blend in while venturing to the new hip part of town. Once they return home, the pajamas and slippers slide back on and the new duds are tossed in the back of the closet - perhaps never seen again.

The reality is they have never accepted us and they never will.

Each of us will confront this fact in our usual individual ways but my confrontation has passed and my own conclusion reached.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Like a teenager with self-esteem issues, Atlanta tends to half ass its way through everything.

We built and built and built while half-assing infrastructure until the sewers told us to pony up $4 billion or they would spew sludge into the streets.

We half-assed on transportation and ended up with the most incomplete, dysfunctional transit system of any major city in the country.

But most glaringly, in 1996, exposed to the world, we half-assed the Olympics and when something went wrong, the press handed our half-ass back to us on an ink-stained platter.

And we're about to do it again.

For years, people of many stripes, myself included, have promoted the idea of a casino at Underground. Despite the whines of the moralists, it would solve many problems. It would give the ubiquitous conventioneers a place to wander. It would bring god knows how much revenue to a city strapped for cash. Most importantly, it would finally lance the boil of a city subsidized entertainment district that only entertains as a frightening freak show.

But instead of changing the state law which prevents casino gambling, Atlanta is exploring using a loophole in the lottery law which allows video gambling machines -and not even those poor pitiful video poker machines, but some half-ass lottery spewing chimera.

Left on Lanier correctly notes, "If Atlanta is going to pursue gambling as a correction to budget issues, then it’s best to make it hardcore. Attract big money gamblers by providing live poker with live dealers, pit bosses, additional security, the whole works. Over time, we could add the fountains and lighting and attractions, and become a mini-Las Vegas- complete with police presence and a general sense of well-being in the city center".

But I doubt we will. We won't because we don't understand the concept of all-in. We'd rather cautiously play a little here and a little there - never making that breath gasping push. And every poker player of any skill knows the inevitable result of this strategy - no money left and out of the game.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

For this reason, they spent the last 20 years operating in the shadows, sacrificing principle for the comfort of power as the radicals stomped across the landscape. They said all the right words and attended the appropriate services at the chapels of venom.

In 2000, when their standard bearer, John McCain was publicly flogged by the so called righteous, they said little.

For 8 years, they stood aside as their bloody brethren ripped at the Constitution - wetting their talons with torture and imprisonment.

In 2008, finally some ventured to speak against yet another disastrous choice and were met by a mob carrying stakes and kindling.

The witch fires have illuminated the shadows. There can be no more standing to the side as the looming beast now feeds on its own.

***

The beast is a chimera of many parts and it is on these parts which you must strike.

Sarah Palin - Fortune made her the face of the radicalism. She is not, as some say, unintelligent. Her weight on the campaign was not a lack of intellect but a lack of intellectual curiousity. It is not that she doesn't know the participants in the North American Free Trade Agreement - it is that she doesn't seem to care. She embraces the spirit of know nothingness which now grips your party. This standard bearer must be banished or you will wander in the wilderness for generations.

Abortion - You have lost your voice because those under 30 no longer hear you. They consider this most divisive issue settled and wish to move forward. If due to personal belief you must remain with this issue, you must concede reasonable exceptions. To do otherwise will guarantee those you need most will simply pass you by.

Talk Radio - Recently the voice of the beast was asked if there is room in the Republican party for moderates - Rush Limbaugh responded "We want their votes but they'll never be one of us". A brighter line was never set. If Democrats are the enemy to be fed upon, moderate Republicans are merely the ground the beast walks across. Limbaugh, Hannity, Coulter, Malkin and all those who cry for blood must be rejected. You must stop appearing on their shows. You must stop parroting their insanity. The last two elections have shown the market is rejecting their brand of rabble rousing. Assist the market in hastening their demise.

The Despair of KnowNothingness - Reason must prevail over the heart of the beast. If someone asks you if you believe in evolution, you must say yes, but you leave these issues to science and it does not bear on faith. If someone asks you if you believe in global warming, you must say yes, but add the task will be difficult and we must seek solutions that better us all. You must discount the brand of dishonesty which claims to hold the one true knowledge at the expense of those whose life work is the quest for knowledge.

***

Now, it is on this ground where you must fight - for it is good ground.

Gun Rights - Heller rightly established the Second Amendment as an individual right and not a collective one. You will find allies across the ideological landscape who are gun owners and believe that owning guns is not a sin. But do not seek them in the halls of the N.R.A. Seek them in the hunting camps of Georgia, the small businesses in D.C. and the indoor target ranges of L.A.

Property Rights - If Heller was absolutely right, Kelo was absolutely wrong. The mere idea that the government can swoop in and take a person's property without a fare-thee-well is more abhorrent than any of the issues the radicals put forth as critical. Forget promising platitudes of nominating judges who rule on "strict construction". Promise judges who understand that as with guns, property is a right of the individual and not the collective.

Business - If you must be the party of business then do so. There are plenty of people who understand the economy doesn't work without big business. But also be the party of small business. It may be the Wal-Marts which make our nation a partner in the global economy, but it is the mom and pop restaurants which make every small town in this country a partner in the whole's greater success. Support small business loans. Support microloans. Offer support to all rungs of the ladder and those who you need most will help raise that ladder to new heights.

Spending - Yes, we must talk about taxes but for the love of all that is good, let us talk about spending first. When John McCain talked as a spending hawk, CNN's fancy dial-a-vote devices went through the roof. When he wandered back into the land of the beast, they fell through the floor. The people want smaller government. They want more local control. They will understand the hard choices to be made. Instead of promising a tax chicken in ever pot, promise we won't have to sell Oregon to pay off the Chinese. It is for their children and their children's children. Every parent understands sacrifice to make the next generation's world better. Talk to your constituents like the adults they are and they will listen.

***

Not that long ago, I had a conversation with Republican State Senator David Shafer. We met in a not unusual way. He disagreed with something I wrote on embryonic stem cells. Sen. Shafer and I agree on nothing about right to life issues. However, once we set aside that deadly conflict, a conversation emerged on the future of Grady Hospital. I learned more about the issues of local health care in this half hour conversation than any number of position papers, activist marches and stormings of the Grady board meetings ever taught me.

All it took was momentarily setting aside the differences in order to discuss areas where we agreed. It was in that country, not yet touched by the beast, where we not only found common ground but solutions.

It is in these refuges of reason where the battle can be won. But first you must be willing to make your stand. The time for the stalwart has come. The engagement is at hand and the decision must be made - do you fight for this good ground?

Monday, May 17, 2010

After much consideration, I've decided to not run for House District 82.

Although I was overwhelmed by the support and encouragement of friends and family, it is just not the right time in my life to cross the fence from the land of the policy observers to the land of policy makers.

I wish whoever runs for the 82nd much luck and, of course, I'll be watching closely.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Dark skies roiled around the Georgia National Fairgrounds as the candidates for U.S. Senate and the 8th Congressional district gathered at the stage of the Reaves Arena in Perry, Ga. Perhaps, Mr. Henry asked a favor of his new landlord, for the heavens indeed opened, threatening to drown out the lows of the manure slingers who temporarily infested the hallowed home the legendary cattleman built for his beloved livestock.

Despite the exhortations of the spare but raucous audience, the blather on the stage never matched the fury of the rain lashing the roof. It seemed every time a politician opened his mouth the whipping of water on the ceiling crescendoed, causing the occasional nervous eye to stare heavenward - possibly wondering where all would run if the thing peeled off like a potato skin.

As with most debates, there were no game changers. No particularly harsh gaffes. No soul stirring moments of inspiration. No pol succumbing to the pressure, stripping off every stitch of clothing and prancing around like a chicken. Not much fun at all.

Instead, with a weird format which limited answers to a couple of minutes and 30 second rebuttals at the discretion of the moderator, the entire affair was mostly limited to sound bite pablum found in commericials.

In the big daddy event of the Senate race, Democrat Jim Martin was more confident and forceful than expected - except when he lapsed into wonkish professor mode, droning on about billions and trillions.

Incumbent Senator Saxby Chambliss talked about winning wars, cutting taxes and saving us all from the liberal menace - except when he stumbled around on the immigration question and was met with an uncomfortable silence from his previously rabid supporters.

Libertarian Allen Buckley referred to his website about 243 times and appeared genuinely rattled any time the restless audience began burbling with either approval or disapproval. At certain points, if someone had whispered "boo", he might have just darted for the wings.

The congressional candidates were mercifully spared a full hour of the nonsense and spent a mere 30 minutes warbling mostly about "the vote".

Incumbent Democrat Jim Marshall mentioned a letter he received from the AARP, one of the debate sponsors, about half a dozen times in the hope that the powerful blue hair lobby would provide the karmic bailout bandaid he so desperately needed.

Republican challenger Rick Goddard spewed about better handling of the taxpayers money and his knowledge that 90% of Georgia opposed the bailout. Of course he had this handy fact because before making a public statement on the hot potato of the day, he had polled extensively - including inadvertently quizzing Jim Marshall's campaign office.

Somewhere in the middle, Goddard said "this is a strong market" and Marshall said he "hadn't paid much attention to either (Presidential) candidate's plans for Iraq". Despite the strength of these two gaffes, no blood ran because after 90 minutes of beating rain and bleating politicians, few still cared.

Afterward, when the hands were shook and signs were stowed, all waited in the lobby for the rain to cease lashing the fairground. There would be no quick aboslution for these political desperadoes who had invaded this innocent land of funnel cakes and candy apples.

Eventually the storm waned and a bright moon emerged from the clouds. Mr. Henry must have decided to once again rest easy - for tomorrow, the cleaner parade of cows and pigs would return to his arena.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

We are told that in this internet world where the abililty to tell a story is as simple as clicking a hyperlink, the traditional media is a refuge of credibility. We are assured the layers of "editorial processes" is a vanguard against myth and rumor. We are told that those who use their actual names as opposed to pen names are more trustworthy. We are told many things.

Yesterday, Atlanta Journal Constitution Assistant Editorial Page Editor Jim Wooten published a story regarding the hacking of Republican Vice Presidential candidate Sarah Palin's email indicating that "sleazy political operatives are so unnerved by the prospect that Palin lit a fire under Republicans and is drawing more women and Independents to McCain that they’re willing to break the law". No evidence is given. No elucidation follows. These political operatives are never identified.

In fact, it was already known the apparent hacker boasted his deeds on an internet community known less for its politcal persuasion and more for its ability to cause chaos. This small morsel of information was ignored in order to feast on a meal of polemical vapors.

Confronted by the absence of fact in the piece, the AJC's response is no one knows the politics of the perpetrators therefore there is no factual error.

This is credibility.

In July of this year, Atlanta blogger Andre Walker reported the Democratic Party of Georgia had pressured the Georgia Association of Educators to withdraw its support of Senate candidate Rand Knight. The story was based on anonymous sources with no corroboration and quickly fell apart - forcing Walker to issue a retraction and an apology.

That same month, it was discovered Walker failed to disclose money received from a political candidate who he portrayed positively on his blog. Once again, although this time after much pressure from the Atlanta blogging community, he was forced to admit he should have acted differently.

Yesterday, Walker was quoted in an Albany Herald article alledging unrest within the Democratic Party of Georgia over the replacement of a Dougherty County School Board candidate. He indicated members of the Executive Committee were unaware of the actions of the party in the matter and presented as evidence the now familiar claims of anonymous emails and phone calls.

This is credibility.

We listen to those inhabiting the towers of higher learning warn of falsehoods and fraud. We are told about guardians of democracy. At times, these guardians whisper totemic phrases to mark that which they deem credible.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Secretary Kemp has clarified the qualifications. Anyone considering running will have to run as a Democrat:

Georgia Secretary of State Brian Kemp announced today that he will call a special primary election to fill the Democratic nomination for State House District 82 upon the withdrawal of State Rep. Kevin Levitas.

Qualifying begins next Monday. My final assessment will come at that time.

I, along with many others, was surprised by Rep. Kevin Levitas sudden decision to not seek re-election in House District. Rep. Levitas consistently placed service to his constituents above party and ideology. His common sense approach in an arena sometimes devoid of this fundamental trait will be missed.

My inquiry into the possibility of continuing his legacy by seeking to be his replacement brought positive responses from Democrats, Republicans and Libertarians. I am overwhelmed by this diverse support and it reaffirms my lifelong belief that ideas always win over ideology.

Due to the unusual circumstances of this election, the qualification process remains unclear. Therefore, before I make any decision, I've requested clarification from Secretary of State Kemp. Once the issue of qualification is resolved, I will consult with my family and together we will determine if this journey of service to the people of District 82 is one we are bound to begin.

Thursday, May 06, 2010

I'm not going to pile on. Really, I'm not. Although given the past arrogance of Georgia Politics Unfiltered owner Andre Walker (eagerly chastising his fellow bloggers, not crediting those who get a story first, not so humbly bragging about his traffic in comparison to others and perhaps tellingly, not supporting his fellow bloggers unless they are associates), it would be easy to do. Wait, maybe I just parenthetically did.

But there is a bigger issue at play here.

Atlanta Progressive News outing of Andre as a stooge for the David Scott campaign exposes every person who writes about politics through the veil of a blog to criticisms we've all heard too often. Only this time, the nabobs can roll out an actual incident as proof. The already steep hill we travel just had a Sisyphus stone added.

For that matter, how can the average reader even tell who bloggers actually are when they use pen names like Rogue109 (another Peach Pundit poster) and decaturguy? It’s a principle of the blogosphere that people get to be anonymous. That may be an unavoidable part of the nature of the medium. But if influential bloggers are anonymous, how can you where there bread is buttered?

I've already covered anonymity. It is a fact of life of online existence and it would behoove us all to understand it. To not and continue using it as a rhetorical baseball bat instead of scalpel would be as fair as me using the term journalists so generally as to cover both Seymour Hersh and Jayson Blair. It is neither fair nor accurate - terms I'm sure Edelstein and his fellow print jockeys treasure.

But it is fair game. And due to Andre's sin, all the careful work of the past years trying to bridge this gap of understanding may unravel. Andre credits few but now his actions have tarred many.

And of course the act of one stray in the herd leads others to the trough of self-loathing.

Juliana Illiari of Blog For Democracy:

"I don't think anyone who blogs believes there are standards and practices right now. You'd have a hard time finding anyone who could agree. It's basically, use at your own risk this information, by virtue of its very nature. Anyone can get them, they're free. You read it and you have to consider what the opinion is"

Love ya, Jules, but that isn't quite right. True, the blogosphere is the free market of ideas gone wild and you will never see me shy away from telling people to obey caveat emptor. However, there are some rules that anyone who dares use the word "publish" with their work should follow. They are plain common sense and we all know them.

Two words for all bloggers: Source and disclose.

Sourcing is the murkiest of waters for bloggers. By the very open nature of the online world, bloggers receive information as clear as press releases and as opaque as anonymous tips. It is up to each blog to determine its standards for publication. However, the further one goes down the dark hall of anonymity, the greater the risk becomes. Andre experienced this less than deadly sin earlier this year by publishing a story based purely on anonymous sources. The poorly sourced house of cards quickly fell apart and Andre issued, to my knowledge, the first open retraction in the history of the Georgia blogosphere.

Disclosure is much easier. If you wear a sock puppet don't pretend your arm magically turned into a talking creature. If you take money tell your readers. Sock puppetry is one of the deadly sins of the online world. Few recover crossing this hard line.

Given his rather public penance, Andre may have survived the first sin, but given the severity of the second, his credibility may never recover.

And thanks to his latest "contribution" to the our little world, we will all be required to work a little harder.

My own disclosure: I've never taken one penny of money from a campaign or anyone else. The closest money has ever come to my little world was a brief period where I consulted for Insider Advantage on strategies to approach bloggers. Something which I fully disclosed at the time.

Wednesday, May 05, 2010

Look, I’m not blind to the yeoman’s work done by a handful of “citizen journalists.” But can anyone provide me examples of a major local story that was broken by a blogger — one with no previous journalistic experience? ~ATLMalcontent, March 15, 2009

The "greasers" showed up for the rumble but the "socs" were nowhere to be seen.

Although the absence of the putative front runners was not the only topic at Wednesday's debate sponsored by the Young Democrats of UGA, the three attendee politicians took quite a few swipes at the big bucks boys as well as the party they are vying to represent.

Josh Lanier, whose campaign has been defined by campaign finance reform, pondered the possibility that Martin and Jones were too busy raising funds. Given, he said, a sitting Senator uses 1/3 of the day to raise money, the absent candidates were acting like "Saxby Chambliss with a blue tie".

Dale Cardwell was more blunt. He noted a study which showed 99.7% of the U.S. population does not contribute to political campaigns and said he believes Martin and Jones count on voters to choose the person they "dislike the least".

"Young" Rand Knight called forth the ghosts of elections past comparing the $330,000 Jim Martin raised in the first ten days of his campaign to an alledged $310,000 debt from his last campaign. He also noted Sonny Perdue beat Roy Barnes in 2002 despite an 8 to 1 money disadvantage.

When asked if all three would support any eventual Democratic nominee, Knight proclaimed "any Democrat is better than Saxby Chambliss". Cardwell levelled the harshest criticism of the night, openly alledging his belief Vernon Jones is being paid by the opposition to run. Cardwell flatly refused to support Jones but agreed he would support any of the other candidates. Lanier demured, reserving judgment, but agreed somewhat with Cardwell that everything he read supported allegations of Jones supporting Republicans in the past.

As the three insurgent candidates move on to future confrontations, they find themselves only two months away from the fateful primary day where voters will deterimine if they are Johnny slowly slipping away in a hospitial bed or Ponyboy surviving and striving to "stay gold".

Tuesday, May 04, 2010

Following myriad pleas, cajoles and threats, my family finally agreed to not use certain epithets in my presence. After long arguments and subtle persuasions, both sides realized the gulf of understanding was too deep to bridge and instead chose that very southern solution - polite silence.

My mother would occasionally slip and seeing me nearby would apologize. It was one of those stomach flipping moments where all realized the child now led the way and the parent would forever follow.

My brothers and sisters continued to follow the truce until our mother left us. With her passing, we were placed in the position of the top rung of the family. Families, like the packs of predators which are their heritage, require leaders and perhaps it was that struggle for supremacy which led my siblings back to the hidden truth - they desired to again casually use certain words in my presence.

At first there were gentle corrections then as things turned ugly not-so gentle accusations. Soon, as four people splintered, sides were taken and I was inexorably pulled towards the brother who was most like myself - except he was 13 years older, a product of the turbulent sixties with its bussing and violence and although no one would ever say it was dominant in his life, bigoted.

He used certain explosive words as thoughtlessly as a man might use the word Coca-cola to describe what he was drinking. He flatly stated if his daughters brought home a black man, he would remove them from his life. When told that Barack Obama may win the Presidency, he rolled his eyes and muttered, "what is the world coming to?"

The polite silence was irrevocably shattered when one of my nieces finally crossed that ultimate line of race. For the dating habits of a 19-year old girl, I was sent flying on a 400 mile trip to attempt to heal a broken family.

After many tears, the family did not heal completely but remained together. They reached their own uneasy truce. The father would not interfere but the daughter would not "put it in his face". My brother frankly told me that he knew we were different and there were things I took as the way of the world which he could never accept.

We as a society have moved so far in this particular struggle but it is close by where we struggle so hard. I could no more remove my brother from my life than I could cut off my right hand because it offends. But events of this week have shown that we must all work harder. We must be willing to tell those we hold most dear, "brother, I love you but when I'm around there are things you can't do".

And change will come. Perhaps all the ones we love will not change but with each passing of that love change will be inevitable.

Many months after the "boyfriend incident" as my brother sat rolling his eyes at the possibility of a black man being President, my niece standing just behind her father sotto voce told me, "I think he'll be a good President".

Nearly three years ago, on the subject of accountability in blogs, I wrote:

...you are going to tell me it logically follows that a libeled party would willingly spend the bags of money required in lawyer fees to go through a multi-year libel case against a big-daddy-corporate-behemoth like the Atlanta Journal Constitution instead of firing off a Cease and Desist letter to my hosting company which would have my blog wiped out of existence almost the minute the thing hit the system administrator's inbox?

UPDATE: A commenter points out the "three individuals" could be the girl, mother and step-father. I have to admit that makes sense as well. I guess we'll have to wait and see what McBerry does. Then again, this is politics, this could all very easily be a flash in the pan that's forgotten in a couple of months.

Bowed heads during the many prayer breaks easily denoted the heathens (and most of the media) from the true believers at Governor Perdue's pray for rain "hoot n holler" down at the Capitol today.

It was a diverse crowd of around 200 who came to hear the praying of preachers and the pontificating of politicians. Many beseechers raised their hands throughout the service towards a mockingly cloudless sky.

Like the proverbial moths, the media warrior camera jockeys working the edges of the crowd were invariably drawn to the weird. For those without a front row seat, this meant either the two pretty girls with a pink umbrella or one particular Frankenfreak-tall fanatic.

Practically bubbling, the umbrella girls would only confirm they were both state workers who brought the useless parasol to show their faith. However, most of their time was spent with their backs to the prayers, yearningly looking towards the row of local camera trucks - faith in brief fame being a surer bet than Jesus loving pink.

Down the way, possibly to the chagrin of the pretties in pink, cameras flocked to the broad back of one true-believer. He towered over the crowd, holding his hands towards his eternal home. Anyone who growed up in a small southern church would instantly recognize the creature - corrective shoes, short-sleeved dress shirt, a whiff of stale sweat and a look of vague zombie-like fanaticism which would scare all but the most degenerate gutter-drunk straight into the detox.

Most photogs quietly snuck up behind their prey, snapped away and quickly vamoosed fearing the giant might suddenly turn to lay the heat of holy rapture on their forehead. But one brave photojournalist insistently tapped him on the shoulder and eventually breaking the reverie received a whispered exchange from the devotee. The incessant whir of the news choppers and the verse spewing of the amplified preachers masked their conversation, burying it in the endless annals of mystical mutterings. Or a soon-to-be-seen AP caption in your nearest dead tree media.

Governor Perdue concluded the service with a brief prayer directed towards the heavens. Slowly, overhead a peregrine falcon circled, a church bell rang in the distance and probably somewhere a dog howled.

But sadly for all the fanatics, thumpers and quiet zombies shivering in ecstasy below, only the clear blue eye of the great Sky Daddy stared back. Not even a mist of weepiness in sight.